A Survival Guide for a Counselor in the Apocalypse Chapter 70

Chapter 70

 

Starting the next day, the intensity of the training increased.

First of all, I had to learn how not to oversynchronize. Before my existence could vanish from excessive attunement, the old man would crack my head open first.

“You foolish brat! Are you that desperate to die?! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would be to die without even properly using a single spell?!”

I knew magic was supposed to be mentally exhausting, but this was the first time I’d heard of it hurting because you get beaten up like this…

It took half a day just to barely learn how to control my attunement.

At some point, he started hitting my back too, leaving bruises all over my body. Is learning a single spell normally this painful? It’s not like my mana core is breaking… my actual body is falling apart.

“Wow, he really hits you evenly all over, huh?”

“Y-yeah… th-there’s no… p-part that’s p-particularly worse bruised…”

Lee Hoin, who now came and went like it was his home, and Shin Yerim, who had apparently gotten more comfortable, were examining my bruises while applying ointment.

Why are they doing a comedy routine behind my back?

And in my hands again was the beginner magic book for three-year-olds. A basic magic textbook.

After spending the entire day on it again, I finally created a sphere of light for the first time.

“This damned brat really has a depressing lack of talent…”

Of course, it was a bit jagged and poorly formed, but still.

Well, whatever… what matters is that I made something. I couldn’t do it even once after tens of thousands of attempts. With this, at least I might stand a chance against things like light-licker.

That is, assuming I could actually move it.

I couldn’t. Not yet.

“So, are you planning to become a mage? With how frail you are, it might suit you.”

“I’m not sure.”

At my answer, Leon looked dumbfounded.

“I’m just learning whatever I can to survive.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? Shouldn’t you at least dig into one field properly so you slip less?!”

“If I keep learning different things, maybe I’ll find one thing I actually have talent in.”

Right now, I didn’t know if I had any talent at all. My main goal was just to run a bit longer, defend a bit better.

And in the first place, I’m a counselor. If I had to choose between a mage or a swordsman, I’d say a counselor.

“I’ve never seen such a hopeless fool…!”

“I’ll be a counselor.”

“W-what? What?!”

A counselor who sometimes uses magic and sometimes uses a sword. As long as I don’t do anything crazy to my clients, it should be fine, right?

Leon started looking at me like I was insane. I was used to that kind of look, so I ignored it.

 

***

 

At dawn, I was practicing making fire while reading the beginner magic book when someone knocked on the door.

“A-aren’t you s-sleeping…? P-proper r-rest is i-important…”

It was Shin Yerim. Maybe because we’d been seeing each other so often, she seemed a bit more at ease now. She came in, stuttering, and handed me a cup of water.

“Not yet. I used to work night shifts, so…”

“Y-yes…”

She hesitated for a moment, looking like she was debating whether to say something.

She could just leave. That would be fine.

But I’ve never been good at ignoring someone who’s standing there alone like that.

“Th-that… is it c-complete…?”

“This?”

“Y-yes… the f-fire… I saw it e-earlier… f-from outside…”

“Oh, no. Not perfectly. Just an imitation.”

“B-but it’s still a-amazing…! I–I c-couldn’t have done that…”

“You’re good at other things.”

Shin Yerim was good at making medicine. Even while I was stuck in bed, I’d often hear people praising her.

“Me? M-me?”

She waved her hands, clearly flustered, denying it.

“People were praising you. Saying your medicines are so good that they make everyone’s work easier.”

“Eek…”

The more I praised her, the smaller she seemed to shrink.

“Th-that’s not… really…”

“I’ve used your medicine before too.”

“It’s not… that good…”

I looked at her as she kept shrinking into herself.

“Why?”

I asked why she thought that way.

 

—

[You have encountered a client.]

[‘Shabby Counseling Office’ skill has been activated.]

—

 

And right on cue, my counselor skill activated.

Finally.

Let’s actually have a proper conversation.

“…Would you like to have a counseling session with me?”

I may look like this, but I graduated with a 4.0 average in psychology and even got a counseling license.

Not that I still have it now.

 

***

 

“You can sit there.”

I took a seat and gestured to the chair across from me. After hesitating, Shin Yerim nodded and sat down.

“Th-this is… w-what exactly…?”

“It’s my skill. I’m a counselor, and you become the client. It helps increase mental stability. You don’t have to say anything serious. We can just continue what we were talking about earlier.”

I kept the tone casual. Reacting too strongly would only make things worse.

“I mean, I wasn’t perfect either. I coughed up blood and lost my vision. This body of mine is just packed with maintenance costs, isn’t it?”

After brushing past death several times, my body was full of magical devices.

“B-but you still… a-achieved it!”

Shin Yerim protested, and I smiled lightly.

“Thank you for saying that. But isn’t it the same for you?”

“Huh?”

“What you’ve done. Making good medicine, working harder than anyone, taking care of others… those things.”

Shin Yerim was diligent. From what I’d seen, her hands were never idle. She arrived first and left last.

It was hard to tell how many people’s worth of work she was doing alone.

She looked flustered and avoided my gaze. I didn’t press her. I simply stated it as a matter of fact and waited.

After a long pause, she spoke, stuttering.

“B-but… th-this is… s-something a-anyone c-can do… I’m…”

I waited patiently, not interrupting.

“I–I s-stutter… a-and… I’m d-dark… a-and…”

Maybe she was flustered, or maybe it was hard to endure tearing herself down like that, but her stutter was worse than usual.

“What’s wrong with stuttering?”

I didn’t address the “dark” part. I stuck to what was observable, not my subjective judgment.

“It’s… u-ugly…”

“Stuttering is?”

“…it’s s-slow too…”

“Everyone speaks at their own pace. Sometimes I talk too fast and have to repeat myself two or three times. If anything, speaking slowly means people won’t misunderstand you in one go.”

Shin Yerim shifted her gaze.

She seemed confused, but not resistant.

So I asked:

“When did you start stuttering?”

Gently. Carefully. Giving her space to speak.

She was startled.

“Hic-!”

She clamped her mouth shut, hiccuping, and her satisfaction level started dropping rapidly.

I deliberately kept my voice calm.

“I’m sorry. Was that too much? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Let’s take a slow breath first.”

I took a deep breath, and she followed, still hiccuping. Her stability returned.

Seems like a deep trauma, or that question itself is a trigger.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Y-yes… I’m o-okay… I’m s-sorry…”

“I should be the one apologizing, not you.”

We sat in silence for a while.

After some time, she finally spoke again, hesitantly.

“It’s… f-frustrating… isn’t it…?”

Again, self-deprecating.

Overall, her thoughts kept circling back to her stutter. She clearly saw it as something ugly and frustrating.

So there were two things to consider:

Did she come to think this way on her own, or was it imposed on her by others?

To avoid triggering her, I chose my words carefully.

“How you speak isn’t important. What matters is what you’re trying to say. Why did you think that? Why do you think I’d feel frustrated? Not because it’s ugly or slow… You know I don’t think that.”

She seemed to think carefully.

Excluding “ugly,” “slow,” and “frustrating,” why would I feel that way?

“E-everyone…”

Because everyone said it was frustrating.

The first door opened.